I can still smell the marina in spring, when tarps put on last fall are removed, allowing for new bottom paint as wood surfaces are sanded down and varnished to a mirror gloss. Down below, the cushions and curtains are taken home to be washed to remove the musty smells trapped there during the winter months.
New sparkplugs and filters are replaced, and bilge pumps are tested to assure they're ready in case we spring a leak that is always a possibility with a wooden hull. Mom arrived with boxes filled with paper products and non-perishable goods stored below, as well as bed linens and blankets for those cool nights in late spring.
When the day arrived, we'd watch as the forklift lowered the boat into the water, then grab the lines and tie up alongside the dock to fill up with gas and keep a lookout for excessive water in the bilges. When everything checked out, Dad called everybody on board, and the ropes were cast off as we motored out of the harbor on our way to the river and open waters. Our boat was a classic wooden-hulled cabin cruiser that drew a lot of attention from passing craft, which gave us the thumbs-up as we passed. As spring turned to summer, we took the boat out every weekend, exploring new places some we could dock at and have a meal in a waterfront restaurant. And as usual, we drew a crowd of admirers who all had good things to say.
I remember both day and night cruises on the river as I learned how to navigate in both light and darkness using charts and Dad's knowledge of the waters. Eventually, Dad let me man the controls more often as he and Mom sat back and enjoyed the ride. As I became a young man, I was allowed to take her out by myself sometimes with a few friends on board, where we'd find the perfect swimming hole and drop anchor for a day in the sun. Now, as a grown man, Dad signed the boat over to me, claiming he was too long in the tooth to keep up with the maintenance a boat demands. I taught my boys how to care for it, seeing them fit right in as they did the things I did under my dad's supervision. I imagine one day my wife and I will be invited on a nice cruise, sitting back and watching with pride as the boat Dad and Mom saw potential in motors down the river we all love so much.
When the day arrived, we'd watch as the forklift lowered the boat into the water, then grab the lines and tie up alongside the dock to fill up with gas and keep a lookout for excessive water in the bilges. When everything checked out, Dad called everybody on board, and the ropes were cast off as we motored out of the harbor on our way to the river and open waters. Our boat was a classic wooden-hulled cabin cruiser that drew a lot of attention from passing craft, which gave us the thumbs-up as we passed. As spring turned to summer, we took the boat out every weekend, exploring new places some we could dock at and have a meal in a waterfront restaurant. And as usual, we drew a crowd of admirers who all had good things to say.
I remember both day and night cruises on the river as I learned how to navigate in both light and darkness using charts and Dad's knowledge of the waters. Eventually, Dad let me man the controls more often as he and Mom sat back and enjoyed the ride. As I became a young man, I was allowed to take her out by myself sometimes with a few friends on board, where we'd find the perfect swimming hole and drop anchor for a day in the sun. Now, as a grown man, Dad signed the boat over to me, claiming he was too long in the tooth to keep up with the maintenance a boat demands. I taught my boys how to care for it, seeing them fit right in as they did the things I did under my dad's supervision. I imagine one day my wife and I will be invited on a nice cruise, sitting back and watching with pride as the boat Dad and Mom saw potential in motors down the river we all love so much.
Mike 2026 
Mike 2026
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